


Season's Meetings

by Sproings



Series: Wilton's Bakery 'verse [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas, F/F, Holidays, part of a series but it does stand alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 20:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sproings/pseuds/Sproings
Summary: There was nothing exactly wrong with the woman from apartment 13.  She was just...Nice.Natasha sort of hated her on principle.





	Season's Meetings

Natasha braced herself as she walked toward the elevator. There was no visible sign of it, of course, but she took a slow steadying breath that nobody else would notice, to gather her strength.

She needed it. The girl from apartment 12 b was in there. Waiting. 

Natasha's inner voice corrected 'girl' to 'woman', because she was clearly an adult, and then corrected '12 b' to '13', because superstitions were childish. She nearly stayed back and let the doors close, but she didn't want to wait for the next elevator, and she wasn't about to use the stairs.

There was nothing exactly wrong with the woman from 13. She was just...

Nice.

Natasha sort of hated her on principle.

On November twenty-ninth, 13 had bounced down the hallway with a candy cane ribbon on her perfect blonde ponytail. It was the exact most annoying date for wearing a candy cane ribbon. Any earlier and Natasha could have just despised her outright for trying to overrun Thanksgiving. Any later and 13 would be just one of a million candy cane ribbon wearers, and Natasha could ignore it. But no. The day after Thanksgiving. Perfectly annoying.

It had only gotten worse.

On December eighth, 13 had dragged a pine tree into the lobby. It was well wrapped, it didn't drop needles everywhere, and it was just a shade shorter than 13 herself. Three different guys had offered to help her carry it, and she had turned them all down, nicely, then slapped the 'close doors' button once they got inside the elevator. They shared a neighborly smile, and Natasha didn't make her own offer to help, and 13's tree left four pine needles on Natasha's doormat. Again, perfectly annoying.

On December fifteenth, the entire hallway smelled of warm sugary spices, and Natasha grumbled at the cravings they induced, but on December sixteenth, 13 knocked on Natasha's door and handed over a festive baggie with two gingerbread men inside. She smiled and said, "Happy Holiday's," then left before Natasha could reply. Delicious cookies with no chit-chat. There was even a recipe attached, in case anyone had allergies. They were gluten free. It was terrible. They were almost as good as what Clint and Wade sold.

On December twenty-second, nothing happened at all, and Natasha's predictable schedule of weekly annoyances was all thrown off.

But here it was, the big day, December twenty-fifth, with the holly jollys and the ho ho ho's, and Natasha braced herself and followed 13 into the elevator.

As a preemptive strike, Natasha turned to watch the doors close and cheerfully said, "Happy holidays."

There was...a sound.

A snorting kind of sound.

Natasha looked over her shoulder, and was met with a frown. A beautiful frown, twisting up those perfect apricot lips.

"It's a whole month dedicated to making people feel shitty and lonely," 13 said. She slumped back against the wall and crossed her arms.

Hoping to keep her talking, Natasha remained silent, but widened her eyes a bit.

13 frowned even deeper. "There's no escaping it. Oh sure, you can try, but it'll find you. Mistletoe at the bar is the worst, god the number of men who have tried to make me kiss them," she shuddered. "But then there's the ornaments at the bodega. The lights at the park. The carols in the damned _elevator!"_

"The tree in your apartment?" Natasha added.

"The tree in my fucking apartment!" 13 said, nodding vehemently. "It's right there, all--"

The elevator dinged, interrupting the tirade and the carols.

13 ducked her head in defeat and made her way through the doors.

"Hey," Natasha said. "If you wanted...I don't have a tree in my apartment. We could watch The Seven Samurai."

"That sounds really great."

"Come on."

On December twenty-fifth, 13 sat down on Natasha's couch and said, "My name's Sharon, by the way."

"Natasha."

"Pretty. It suits you."

"Thanks." Natasha couldn't help but smile as she took the seat beside her.

"So, you're not going to ask?" Sharon said. "About the tree and the cookies and..."

"I figured you'd tell me if you wanted."

Sharon tucked her hair behind her ear. "My parents went over to England, to visit my aunt. She's...She's not well. And every week they call, and every week they ask if I'm _sure_ I'll be okay all alone, if I'm _sure_ I won't be lonely, and I fall into it every time. I get relentlessly jolly and try to prove that I'm fine."

Natasha nodded sympathetically. "Are you fine?"

"Hell no. Are you?"

"Nope."

"Okay then."

On December twenty-sixth, at midnight, Sharon paused the movie and said, "It's over. Christmas is finally over."

"Sure," Natasha said. "But there's still New Years."

Sharon threw a pillow at her head.


End file.
